


The Loneliness of Evening

by GothicPrincessWitch



Series: Fenris Appreciation Month 2k17 [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Feels, Hawke is a drug dealer, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Red-Purple Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:11:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicPrincessWitch/pseuds/GothicPrincessWitch
Summary: It's a struggle for Fenris to survive after his escape from Danarius, and it's an even greater struggle to recover. Fenris refuses to give up, however, and he's still able to find moments of joy and peace for himself. It's a lonely life, though, and when encountering Hawke fills his heart with hitherto unknown excitement, Fenris tries to understand what it is he feels for this man and tries to open himself up to something new.





	The Loneliness of Evening

**Author's Note:**

> An early post for Day 24 of Fenris Appreciation Month.
> 
> A bit of background on this piece: This is one of the earliest Fenhawke scenes I've ever written, dating back to June/July 2016, and it's a scene I've always been proud of. You can see its influence in many of my other works. It was originally part of a long fic I have since abandoned, but I tried my best to clean up this scene and polish it into its own standalone story for Modern AU Day of FAM2k17. 
> 
> Even though it is a Modern AU, Fenris's backstory is very close to his in canon, so pretty much all the same warnings for that apply. Please take care.

It’s a full moon tonight. Big, ripe, and shining, the moon hangs among the stars like a shimmering garland of jewels. It’s a warm night and mostly cloudless, a perfect evening for star-gazing.

Fenris loves the moonlight. He sits on the rotting wood of his porch and watches the moon, just _being..._ He picks up the bottle of red wine beside him and takes a sip. His big green eyes stare up at the moon, and the silver moon stares back at him with all of its regality and serenity.

 _This is alright,_ Fenris tells himself. _I am alright._

Crumbling and decaying, the house around him is falling apart. The windows are boarded up, and a sign labeling it condemned is nailed to the broken front door. Once it must have been magnificent, a huge and expensive near-mansion of a residence, but Fenris had found it abandoned and partially destroyed by a fire.

He’d needed a place to stay after he— after he became free. He had tried the local homeless shelter and spent many nights clustered among the other homeless on the streets, but so many people — so close while he felt so vulnerable and lost, their proximity closing in around him, caging him in, cutting off the air around him and choking him — it had triggered his anxiety, to put it in delicate terms. He was afraid of hurting someone, and and he was afraid of being hurt, so he left and wandered the streets, eventually stumbling across the abandoned house in Hightown.

With a few bribes and a few threats from his sole friend Isabela in order to keep the house abandoned, although they both knew this was a temporary measure at best, Fenris soon has an abode — a place to stay in, for now, if not a home.

It’s not as though he has any other option. With no money, no social security number, not even a real name, what can he do?

No electricity or running water, but he carries his few clothes to a laundromat when he’s stolen enough coins, and sometimes he goes to Isabela’s place to shower and wash his clothing. He could stay with Isabela, for she had offered that willingly to him, but— No. No, he couldn’t. Doing so would remind him far too much of living with his mast— with Danarius.

Fenris could not bear to feel like someone’s pet ever again.

She’d never think of him that way, of course, but still... He just couldn’t.

So he has the privacy of his condemned house, and he has this bottle of the cheapest dry red wine he could get his hands on, and he has the moonlight.

It is difficult for Fenris to put into words what the moonlight means to him, or perhaps there are no words for such a profound feeling. It was a tiny moment, a glimpse into a life he couldn’t have, but it stayed with him for years.

Until the past year, Fenris spent nearly all his life locked indoors. If he ever had a home or any experiences before being sold, taken, and sold again by a gang of human traffickers, then he has no recollection of it. And what memories he does have of the time before Danarius bought him are somewhat blurry at times. But as Danarius’s slave... Well, he was Danarius’s favorite toy, and Danarius said he didn’t want any of his enemies to steal his little Fenris away, so Fenris was kept even more confined and isolated than before.

One night, however, _(Was it four years back? Five? Time never had any meaning to Fenris before his escape.)_ , Danarius was going off to a party with some of his colleagues and decided on a whim to bring along his pet to show off. It had been years since Fenris set foot outside, and the summer night felt warm and inviting, so unlike the freezing air conditioning of Danarius’s room. Fenris blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and then caught sight of the full moon.

The moon, a huge silver coin in the sky, bathing him in its pale light. Not the harsh glare of the fluorescents indoors, but something soft and welcoming among the shimmering stars. With the night breeze caressing his face, Fenris stared in awe at the moon’s beauty.

Something stirred in his chest, then, some kind of longing for the moonlight, the open sky, the fresh air, something just beyond his reach, something beyond the walls of his cage, something **free** —

But then, pulled by an impatient tug on his leash, Fenris remembered where he was, **what** he was, and, lowering his eyes to the ground as he was trained to, followed his owner into the waiting car.

In the late nights when the solace of his silent thoughts belonged to him alone, he’d look back on that moment, cling to it, and hope he’d see the moon again someday.

And now he can view the moonlight nearly every night and still feel that wonderstruck sense of awe. The full moon in all its glowing splendor remains to him a symbol of hope. And of freedom.

Drawing the bottle of wine back to his lips, Fenris lets the pale moonlight wash over him as he tells himself again and again, _I am free. I am not a thing. I am free. I am alright. I am free._

If he thinks it enough times, eventually he’ll start to believe it, correct?

A scuffling sound startles Fenris from his thoughts, and his hand instinctively reaches for the knife at his belt. Moving into a defensive crouch, his eyes dart to the shadows, searching for the interloper. His heart rate quickens, and he can’t help the fearful litany looping in his head, threatening to drown him: _they’re coming to take me they’re coming to take me they’re coming to take me._

“Who’s there?” he calls, mentally cursing himself. Damned fool, giving away his position.

“Hey there!” a somewhat familiar voice calls out, but it’s recently familiar enough to recognize it.

Fenris straightens, but he’s still poised to attack, knife in hand, as he responds, “It’s you... Hawke.”

Garrett Hawke emerges from the shadows, hands stuffed in the pockets of his red leather jacket. A cavalier smile which Fenris guesses is meant to disarm him plays on Hawke’s lips. Fenris’s eyes flicker over him, taking in the black hair and beard, the decorative black straps and gold bird skulls adorning the jacket, the plaid flannel peaking out from beneath the leather jacket, the scuffed jeans, and the red leather boots. It’s a lot of red, especially on such a big, formidably muscled, 6’4” man, but instead of appearing gaudy, he looks... well, rather good. There are no visible weapons, but Fenris doesn’t doubt the man is armed.

They’d only met a few days prior. Fenris has spent the day downtown, fruitlessly searching for work, and he was about to cut through a back alley on his way home when he encountered a mugging in progress. There were two thugs attacking the man in the red leather jacket. Fenris still doesn’t understand what moved him to intervene and help someone he’d never laid eyes on before, but he did, helping to beat the two attackers unconscious.

“Thanks for the rescue,” said the bearded man with a grin. “I owe you my life.”

Then Fenris spotted the small plastic bag of blue crystals fallen upon the pavement during the struggle. He recognized it as lyrium dust and realized this wasn’t a mere mugging but a drug deal gone wrong, and he’d fled.

He’d recounted the event to Isabela the next day, and she smiled.

“Ooh, I know him! That’s Garrett Hawke, new in town, only been here a couple of months, but he’s making quite a name for himself in Athenril’s little guild,” Isabela said. With a playful gleam in her eyes, she added, “I could introduce you, if you like. You could use another friend, especially one as fine as that.”

Fenris has declined and thought no more of it. Until now, when this Hawke has somehow tracked him down...

“Can I help you?” asks Fenris dryly, refusing to show any of his fear, as Hawke approaches the steps to the decaying porch.

That smile quirks into a lazy grin. “I was hoping to talk to you,” Hawke replies smoothly.

Fenris forces his expression to stay neutral, while his thoughts are screaming, _What if Danarius sent him?_

“Is that so,” Fenris says carefully, guardedly. “How did you find me?”

Hawke shrugs. “I’m friends with Varric Tethras, who knows Isabela. She’s very protective of you — it’s rather endearing — but I convinced her my intentions are honorable.”

“Oh?” Looking for information to sell? Fenris muses. Or vetting a potential enemy? Or a target? Isabela wouldn’t trust him if she knew had anything to do with Danarius, but that doesn’t mean Hawke isn’t dangerous.

Removing his unarmed hands from his jacket pockets to where Fenris can easily see them, Hawke practically leaps up the steps with those tall legs of his and towers over Fenris. Apparently that disinterested _“Oh”_ was all the encourage he needed to move closer to Fenris’s personal space, although Hawke’s wise enough to keep a few feet’s distance between them.

Taking a half-step back and being careful not to knock over the wine bottle, Fenris looks up into a pair of warm, golden-brown eyes to seek any hints of duplicity, only to find... something else. Something that causes a flutter in his chest not unlike what he felt from that first glimpse of moonlight ages ago. He glances away, not understanding the sudden heat in his face.

"I wanted to thank my knight in shining armor," Hawke says. "It's not every day my life is saved by someone so... Well." He gestures to Fenris, who blinks in confusion. "Gorgeous, if I have to choose only one descriptor. And I really do appreciate your help, Fenris. Ah, can I call you Fenris? It's what Isabela called you."

Stunned, Fenris stares at Hawke in confusion and... unknown feelings. "I... What do you want?" he asks softly.

Hawke frowns, lifting his palm to his forehead for a moment. Then with a sigh, he explains, "I'm trying to ask you out to dinner."

Fenris blinks a few more times and then just stares again. "Dinner?" he echoes, completely nonplussed.

"Yes, dinner," says Hawke, his grin returning. "You do eat dinner, don't you?"

"I've been known to partake on occasion," Fenris replies, deadpan, still apprehensive of Hawke's agenda.

Hake moves a step toward him, and his rather distractingly nice-looking lips quirk into a smirk as he says, "Well, then, let's partake of dinner together sometime."

"Why?" Fenris breathes the word, his green eyes wide as he gapes at Hawke in bewilderment.

Another shrug. "I like food, and I'd really like to spend time with a very handsome man. Combining both sounds ideal. Plus, I owe you."

Blushing a small laugh escapes Fenris, and startled, he coughs awkwardly. "I..." Words vanish from his tongue when he sees Hawke's expression. His whole face has lit up, golden eyes shining, and that sly smile of his has softened into something much more genuine.

"What is it?" Fenris's voice comes out as far more soft and shy than he'd intended, matching the sudden shyness he feels.

"You..." Hawke blushes himself and looks away for a moment. "You have a really nice smile."

Fenris feels his cheeks and ears redden further, burning, and he drops eye contact immediately. He wasn't even aware he had smiled just then. He certainly has never been complimented on his smile before. Or asked to dinner. This whole situation is all so unusual to him. It's new and different, and he doesn't know how to feel about any of it, and there's something thrilling about that.

"So, dinner," starts Hawke.

"Yes?"

He didn't think it possible, but Hawke's expression lights up even more, _as though he's seeing the full moon for the very first time._

"Is that a yes to dinner?" Hawke inquires hopefully.

"I..." Why can Fenris not stop blushing? Why is his heart racing so differently than before? "Yes. That's a yes to dinner."

Hawke grins that charming grin again. "Can I pick you up here tomorrow at seven?"

Fenris has to look away again and curses himself for feeling so damn awkward.

"Very well."

They both stand there for a moment, feeling self-conscious and grinning and blushing like fools, before Hawke mumbles, "Um, well, good night then. I'll see you tomorrow," and departs. Fenris watches him leave.

Sheathing his knife with one hand and seizing the wine bottle in the other, Fenris takes a long swig. How could that man cause him to feel so off-kilter? How could he cause such a stirring in Fenris's chest? It's frightening and exhilarating at the same time, with so much underlying yearning that Fenris does not understand.

But he wants to. So very much that he's trembling.

Fenris lifts his large green eyes back up to the gleaming moon, his heart feeling as full as the moon itself, and he resumes his earlier mantra:

_I am alright. I am free. I am alright..._

=====

 _Holy shit_ , Garrett Hawke thinks to himself. _Holy fucking shit._ They've barely met, but he is starting to fall for that man. Fenris is beautiful and deadly like an ornate silver dagger, like the glistening stars above, but that laugh, that smile...

Hawke finds himself wanting to do anything for another glimpse of that incredible smile.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella:
> 
> "I lie in the loneliness of evening   
> Looking out on a silver flaked sea  
> And ask the moon, how soon, how soon   
> Will my love appear to me?"
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
